


Unintended Consequences

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Series: College Town [15]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluri, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things always seem to escalate quickly when Yuri feels he’s been slighted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Yuri walked into the living room freshly showered and dressed, and came to stand in front of the couch where Flynn was sitting comfortably, reading a book. In a show of amazing patience, Yuri must have waited a good ten seconds for Flynn to acknowledge him before giving up and announcing: “I need you to go shopping with me.”

That was unusual. Flynn marked his place and looked up. “Why?”

“I need new clothes and we need food. And since it won’t all fit in my backpack, I need a ride to get all that. Unless you want to loan me your car and hope I learn real fast how to—”

Flynn held up a hand to stop him there. “Let me get my wallet.” Setting aside his book, he got up and started down the hall to his room, pausing to call over his shoulder: “Dry your hair. I don’t want you dripping all over the seat.”

They were on their way inside of a quarter of an hour. Yuri buckled in and slouched against the door, staring out the window as the scenery rushed past. He never seemed to sit properly in a car. On his quiet days, his habit of scrunching up as far from the driver’s side as he could get made it seem like he was trying his hardest to keep his distance. However, he seemed to be in a good mood that day. He didn’t talk, but his fingers drummed lightly on his thigh as he lip-synched to whatever song was playing through his mind. Still, the silence bothered Flynn. He had a pretty good idea of where they were headed, but asked anyway just to have something to say.

“Where did you want to go look for clothes?”

“Usual place.”

Yuri’s ‘usual place’ for clothes shopping was a thrift store not far from where they did their grocery shopping. He bought from regular clothing stores rarely and always at a discount, but somehow he had still managed to put together a half way decent wardrobe.

As he drove, Flynn struggled to keep up a conversation. Yuri’s responses were aggravatingly short, his attention fixed on the world outside the car and the song in his head. He got like that sometimes, preoccupied with a particular piece of music almost to the exclusion of all else. If the earworm stayed with him long enough, he could occasionally teach himself to play the melody on piano. 

For the rest of the drive to the store, Yuri remained aloof, and Flynn eventually let him have his quiet. It had been a while since he’d been so caught up in a song, and longer still since Flynn had heard him play. He would have to get Yuri to pull out his old keyboard that night. If Yuri was going to drag Flynn out shopping and then ignore him on the way, the least he could do was provide a little entertainment later.

They pulled into the shopping center and parked. Yuri was halfway to the door before Flynn even got out and locked the car. He made a beeline for the clothing section and Flynn turned to the used books to kill time. There wasn’t much of interest. Crime thrillers, old cookbooks, how-to manuals, children’s books, and a ridiculous number of romance novels filled the few shelves. Idle curiosity led him to pick up one of the romance novels and flip through, skimming paragraphs at random. It was worse than he’d expected. Yuri could write a better story, and Flynn had seen what resulted when Yuri tried his hand at poetry. He shook his head, smiling a little, and slotted the book back into place.

“Flynn! Check it out.”

He jumped a little at the sudden sound of Yuri’s voice, and spun to face him, hoping he hadn’t seen what book Flynn had been looking at. He would never live it down if he’d been caught reading trashy romance novels in the thrift store. That concern melted quickly away as he got a look at what Yuri had come to show him. It was a black t-shirt with blocky white print near the top and bottom along with an arrow pointing up and one pointing down. It read: “THE MAN” and “THE LEGEND.” Yuri was grinning enthusiastically as he held it up to himself.

“What do you think?”

“You don’t have the reputation to go along with it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Furtively glancing around to be sure the rest of the shoppers remained uninterested in the two of them, Flynn lowered his voice to answer. “I’m the only person you’ve been with, and I certainly haven’t been telling stories.”

“So, maybe it’s legendary like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster; rarely seen—”

“Because it’s imaginary?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Yuri’s face.

“Go ahead, make jokes. We’ll see how imaginary it is tonight when you’re—”

“Hurry and go put that back so you can finish shopping. I don’t want to be out all day.”

“I’m getting this one.”

Not sure if Yuri was being contrary or if he actually liked the stupid thing, Flynn shrugged. “If that’s what you want to waste your money on, go ahead. Just hurry it up.”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed a bit and he smiled thinly. Flynn knew that expression. It meant he’d just made a mistake and would soon be paying for it. With a sigh, he turned back to the disappointing selection of books. At least if Yuri was taking petty revenge, Flynn wouldn’t be getting ignored.

The rest of the weekend passed without incident, and by Sunday evening Flynn had forgotten about that foreboding look he’d seen on Yuri’s face. It wasn’t until he got out of the shower Monday morning, ready to get dressed for class, that he remembered. As the left the bathroom, he saw the shirt Yuri had bought laying spread out on top of his bed sheets. Otherwise, his room looked exactly the same as it had only a few minutes ago. It was a little disconcerting, largely because he knew Yuri wouldn’t have snuck into his room just display a stupid t-shirt that Flynn already knew he had bought.

Passing by the bed, he eyed the shirt sideways as if it was concealing some sort of trap. For all he knew, it might be. Yuri was planning something. Somehow, Flynn had insulted him, and now there was going to be payback. He hoped Yuri got on with it quickly. Waiting around for it was the worst.

Flynn opened up his closet and froze. The shirts were missing. He shoved his dress pants back and forth across the bar to be sure, leaving them swaying on their hangers. His shirts were gone. All of them. Even his coats were missing. A quick search of his dresser revealed that his t-shirts and undershirts had been taken as well. The only thing left was….

Glancing back at the bed, Flynn groaned in frustration. He did not have time for this. He had a test in his first class and didn’t need to be spending the morning searching for an appropriate shirt to wear.

“Yuri!”

In moments, Yuri appeared in his doorway, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. “Huh?”

“Where are my shirts?”

“Wat furrf?”

“My _shirts_ , Yuri, the ones you took. I don’t have time to play this morning. Just tell me where they are.”

He shrugged and made an I-don’t-know noise. It was a little difficult to tell around the toothbrush, but Flynn was pretty sure he was trying not to smile.

“Fine. I’m searching your room.”

Yuri made no move to stop him as he marched down the short hall and into Yuri’s room, heading straight for the closet. He opened it up, expecting to find a rumpled pile of his own clothes, and saw nothing but Yuri’s things. He checked every drawer in Yuri’s room to the same result. They didn’t even hold any of Yuri’s shirts that he could borrow. Wordlessly, he stalked past Yuri and went to search the rest of the apartment. Washing machine, dryer, closet, cabinets, oven, dishwasher, _fridge_ —everywhere he looked he came up empty-handed. Yuri had finished brushing his teeth and joined Flynn, hovering behind him and smiling infuriatingly.

“Whatever it was I said to piss you off, I’m sorry. I honestly do not have time for this, so will you please—” Glancing at the clock, he swore. “What did you do with my _clothes_?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Wasn’t there a shirt on your bed?”

Flynn was going to kick Yuri’s ass for this, but it was going to have to wait until later. Rushed and irritated, hiking up his towel as it started to slip, he checked his own room, looking under the bed and even going so far as to open the curtains to look out onto the balcony. He’d forgotten to check outside the front door, and he ran to do that, all to no avail. Short on time and out of places to look—where could Yuri have stashed it all in less than ten minutes?—he returned to his room, reduced to wearing the one shirt he could find in their entire apartment. He picked out one of his nicer pairs of pants and a good pair of shoes to wear with it, determined that he should make it as obvious as possible that it had not been his idea to arrive at school in a shirt printed with such crude humor. Grabbing his messenger bag and keys, he headed for the door.

As he passed Yuri on the way, he jabbed a finger at him. “I hope you’re prepared. There is no way I’m letting you off the hook for this.”

Yuri winked and blew him a kiss. “Have a good day, sweetie.” Finally, he reached his limit and burst into laughter. 

Slamming the door on him, Flynn hoped he had an absolutely crappy day. It wouldn’t save Yuri from whatever vengeance Flynn chose to rain down upon him, but a little no-no from karma would be nice. One way or another, Yuri was going to regret this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone remember how calmly Yuri brushed off Flynn’s concerns in “Night Out,” and how Flynn didn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care at all? Similar situation here, just a bigger deal.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Yuri couldn’t help grinning as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. Flynn had been so pissed that morning, and he’d had no idea how close his clothes were. It had been all Yuri could do to keep from laughing as Flynn had searched the apartment wearing nothing but a towel. He’d even looked in the fridge. Who would bother looking in the fridge?

It was sort of a pity he didn’t actually know what buttons he’d pushed. Maybe if he kept insinuating that Yuri wasted money and Yuri kept retaliating, he’d eventually get it. 

Still, Flynn could be sort of a prude and making him wear that shirt might have been a bit much. There’d been some good sales going at the grocery store when he’d stopped in on his way back. Pot roast was one of Flynn’s favorites. Since Yuri was skipping his afternoon classes and had the night off from his third shift job, he figured he could cook that as a peace offering, maybe with some rosemary rolls and garlic mashed potatoes on the side. Pity they didn’t have much to whip up for dessert, but Flynn wouldn’t mind that. He wasn’t particularly interested in sweet foods.

He opened the door carefully. Flynn wouldn’t be expecting him home until early the next morning, but it paid to be cautious when he was pissed off. Yuri had found himself on the wrong end of Flynn’s martial arts training too many times.

Flynn wasn’t waiting for him, but Yuri kept quiet as he shut the door, not wanting to attract attention. He would get started on dinner, then let Flynn find out he was home. The promise of one of his favorite meals ought to lighten his mood if he was still holding a grudge. Really, he ought to be fine. Yuri had returned all his shirts before leaving for class that morning.

On the way to the kitchen, he stopped short. He could hear a familiar voice coming from Flynn’s room. Sodia was in there. He hadn’t noticed her car when he pulled in, but her voice was unmistakable. Flynn must have brought her over for a study session, or something. Hell, that might have been his way of getting back at Yuri. He knew they didn’t get along.

Quietly, Yuri pulled the groceries out of his book bag and washed his hands. He wasn’t much in the mood to fight with Sodia, but dinner was going to be late enough as it was, and he needed to get the pot roast into the oven. The kitchen was a little cut off from the rest of the apartment. If he was careful, he could probably get the roast cooking without making too much noise.

It was easy enough to prepare. A few spices, a can of mushroom soup: pour it all over the roast and pop it into the oven. Flynn had pretty simple taste in recipes. The worst part about roasts was the long cooking time. After washing his hands again, Yuri began pulling out what he needed for the rolls. He had just started kneading the dough when the volume of Sodia’s voice suddenly rose high enough for him to be able to understand what she was saying.

“That’s why you always take his side! He’s letting you screw him!”

There came a muffled protest from Flynn, which was cut off as Yuri stepped out of the kitchen in order to hear better.

“Why _him_? He’s a loser! His own mother didn’t want him!” The apartment went dead silent for a few long seconds. “Flynn, I didn’t—”

“You need to leave.”

“But, I—”

“You need to leave, right now.”

It was very rare that Yuri saw Flynn angry at anyone aside from himself. It was rarer still to hear his anger in that low, quiet tone. Flynn had a temper. If he was really mad, he was much more likely to blow up at someone than calm down. Yuri had never heard him use that tone on anyone else before, and it shocked him into stillness as Sodia appeared in the hall.

She hesitated for just a moment when she saw him, then hurried forward, deliberately shoving him with her shoulder as she passed. 

“You were a mistake,” she hissed as she yanked the door open and left.

The smell of her shampoo or perfume or _something_ lingered in the air, a presence that didn’t belong in the apartment. She’d marked his space, left a piece of herself behind to taunt him. It was strong enough that Yuri suspected it must have been hanging in the air since her arrival. He wondered how he’d missed it when he came in. He wanted to open up the windows and air out the apartment. He wanted every hint of her out of his home, but if he ran around opening all the windows, Flynn would know something was up. Worse, it would be like admitting what she had said mattered. Words were meaningless. He had to keep telling himself that. Words didn’t mean shit.

Before he could return to the kitchen to finish the rolls, Flynn stepped out into the hall. They stared at each other, frozen, until Yuri summoned up a smile and waved at him.

“Hey. Sodia just took off. You two get into a fight, or something?”

“How long have you been home?” His voice sounded wrong. It sounded like what he really wanted to ask was: ‘How much did you hear?’

Yuri shrugged. “Not long. I’ve got the rest of the day off, so I came back to get started on dinner. I was in the middle of making the rolls when she stormed out.”

When he went back into the kitchen, back into a place that belonged to him, Flynn followed and carried in the sickening odor of Sodia’s perfume. The smell filled up the room as Yuri kneaded the dough, rolled it in wax paper, and put it away in the fridge to sit until it was time to bake the rolls. He caught himself as he slammed the fridge shut and tried to play it off as clumsiness. He put away the ingredients and washed the dishes as if nothing was wrong, as if the smile on his face was because he was happy and not because he was putting all his effort into not starting a fight. With the way Flynn was watching him, he wasn’t sure his act was at all successful.

Finally, Flynn sighed and leaned against the counter, dissolving some of the tension. “I told Sodia about us. She was angry about the shirt—she knew as soon as she saw me that it was your fault. When I tried to explain, it just sort of slipped out.”

“Well. everybody else knows. Only fair to tell your fan club. She keeping her membership card, or—”

“Are you all right?”

He didn’t look at Flynn. He couldn’t. It made it too hard to lie when it mattered. Instead, he concentrated on the bowl he was scrubbing.

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s nothing. Never mind. What’s for dinner?” 

He came up behind Yuri, wrapping his arms around his waist and letting his chin rest on Yuri’s shoulder. Sodia’s scent grew much stronger. She must have been hanging all over him.

An elbow in Flynn’s ribs encouraged him to back off. “You’re gonna get splashed if you don’t give me some space while I’m cleaning. There’s a pot roast in the oven. I’m making potatoes and rolls to go with it.”

“Trying to make up for this morning?” He sounded smug. “It’s going to take a lot more than a nice dinner, you ass.” He pressed himself up against Yuri again, hands on his shoulders as he kissed the back of his head. “You didn’t have to push me away. I’m not stupid enough to try to get you back while you’ve got so many knives within reach.”

Yuri forced a laugh. He couldn’t push Flynn away a second time, so he put up with it and tried to ignore the fact that his boyfriend was soaked in an old girlfriend’s perfume. He didn’t doubt that everything had been totally innocent on Flynn’s part, but he still hated that Flynn had brought Sodia into their home to begin with.

As soon as he finished the dishes, he slipped away. He needed to go somewhere he could be free of Sodia.

“I’m going to take a nap. Don’t touch anything in here. I’ll be up in time to get everything ready.”

Flynn followed him down the hall. As they passed the master bedroom, he grabbed Yuri’s wrist and pulled him into a kiss. A smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle as he moved back and tugged gently on Yuri’s arm.

“Are you sure you want to waste this rare afternoon off on a nap?”

Tempting, but not tempting enough, not when he was certain Flynn’s bed hadn’t been spared Sodia’s invasion. Yuri could picture her sitting on top of the sheets. He wasn’t about to sleep with Flynn in a room that reeked of her presence.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me? I think I’ll wait till after you’re done with your revenge. Besides, hauling all those shirts around really took it out of me.”

“Where did you hide them, anyway?”

“I think I’ll be keeping that particular secret to myself.” 

He smirked and pulled his wrist free while he had the chance. Escape was only a few feet away and Flynn didn’t stop him again as he walked very calmly into his room and locked the door behind himself.

With a sigh, Yuri sat down on his mattress, leaning into the far corner of his room. Words didn’t matter, he told himself. People lied all the time.

Too bad nothing Sodia had said had been untrue.


End file.
